


A Warden's Promise

by makesometime



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Female Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 13:59:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2550089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makesometime/pseuds/makesometime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s something quite novel about having any kind of reputation, particularly one that earns such respect. “I’ll have to remember that the next time I’m feeling too lazy to fetch myself something.”</p><p>Blackwall does turn now, walking slowly over to join her. She can’t deny she loves the way he moves, each step measured, considered. So in control of his body. “If only laziness was the worst of your concerns.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Warden's Promise

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel of sorts to my previous DAI fic, which was written way back before Blackwall was confirmed as an LI. Ever since that moment I've found myself stunted, oddly even less able to imagine the relationship between him and my Inquisitor than I was when they were just a dream pairing. But finally, inspiration struck. Bonus bestie Josephine as a bit of fun.

Tessa wanders down one of the many hallways of Skyhold, admiring the handiwork of the renovation team. Sunlight streams through newly-fitted windows, illuminating the floor in dappled regions of brightness which she passes through with as happy a bounce to her step as she’s likely to manage right now. Between her lips she holds a length of leather, ready to bind her hair up into her customary ponytail. Fingers deep in her hair, she nods greetings to the few people she passes until she has every last strand gathered up in place.

Rounding a corner that will eventually lead her to a staircase down to the courtyard, she smiles when she spots Josephine approaching. The woman responds with a smile of her own and an incline of her head, coming to stop a few steps away from Tessa. She waits patiently as the rogue wraps the leather around her hair a few times and secures it with a quick knot, laughing a little at whatever faces Tessa is pulling as she concentrates.

“Josephine!” Tessa greets eventually. “Thank you for waiting. The whims of my hair are quite outside my control.”

The scribe gives a dismissive wave. “Don’t apologise. I didn’t expect to locate you this easily – to do so is a moment of luck that I can wait to capitalise on.”

Tessa nods, crossing her arms as she slots into Inquisitor mode. It’s a task that’s becoming ever easier to do. “I was just on my way to the stables, but it’s not urgent. What can I help you with?”

There’s a flicker that crosses her friend’s face. A momentary… amusement, perhaps. It lends a sparkle to her eyes that was absent a second ago, even as her expression remains neutral. “I see. I will not keep you long then.”

Josephine is going to speak further but Tessa interjects, confused. “There’s no hurry, honestly. I’m sure this is more important.” The scribe chuckles, a lilting sound that normally makes Tessa feel set at ease but only serves to make her a little uneasy now. “Josephine, what are you keeping from me?”

“I keep nothing from you, Inquisitor.” She smiles. “I simply expect _the stables_ are more in need of your presence than you realise.”

Tessa pauses. Her lips purse within a moment, her eyes narrowing on her friend. “Oh. Oh _Josie_.” She huffs out a breath. “How long have you known?”

The other woman looks ready to be evasive, but that urge never overcomes her. Instead she shakes her head, brushing her hand over her hair. “I have to admit it was simply a case of my being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Late one evening last week I had a theory that seemed entirely too important to wait until morning. So, I came to your room.” She steps forward quickly when Tessa’s eyes widen in horror. “Oh no, my friend. Nothing so lurid. I simply saw you greeting our dear Warden at your door. It was… rather obvious that he wasn’t simply visiting.”

“Does anyone else know?” Tessa asks, her voice suddenly quiet.

Josephine reaches out to touch her shoulder, calming a little of her anxiety. “I expect some might have their suspicions. But you know they respect you too much to pry.” 

“We… we didn’t want it to become a distraction.” Tessa explains. “We wanted to make sure it was _real_ first. Because if one of us doesn’t make it through a battle, well.” She shrugs, biting her lip. “That affects everyone more deeply.”

Josephine’s fingers stroke soothing circles over the material of her coat. “And it is real, is it not? Perhaps the time for secrecy is passing. Trust in your companions to be able to accept this progression.”

Truly there was never a woman better suited to diplomacy. Tessa feels some of her tension melt away, reaching up to cover her friend’s hand with her own. “I feel that I should be honest with you Josie – the secrecy is extremely hot.”

Josephine laughs again. “I’m sure it is my friend. I’m sure it is.”

Tessa lets her hand drop, tilting her head to one side. “And I am sure, pleasant a diversion as this has been, that we’ve got completely off track. What is it that you wanted me for?”

With that the women fall into their assigned rolls, Josephine producing a piece of parchment for the two of them to review. It’s full of words that Tessa doesn’t like the look of, and the diplomat gives her a moment to let it all sink in before she speaks again.

“I did not wish to bother you unduly but I fear this is a situation we can no longer afford to ignore…”

\--

Josephine, true to her word, only keeps Tessa for a few minutes. But she leaves the Inquisitor with plenty to think about on the way down to the courtyard. There is significantly more involved in leading this organisation than she could ever have foreseen.

Tessa makes her way out into the market, taking several deep breaths to allow the fresh morning air into her lungs. It feels cleansing, calming. It helps her racing thoughts to slow for a time. 

She stops by one of the stalls, picking up a couple of apples and passing too many coins to the stallholder in payment. Keeping one piece of fruit back, she takes a bite out of the other and smiles as she uses a finger to chase away a drop of escaping juice. The produce here really is exemplary, the sweetly sour taste reminding her of home. 

She makes her way to the stables, avoiding ducking into the barn at first and heading straight for the enclosures. There she finds Brutus, the fine black stallion that has been with her since her later teenage years, a present from her father for her eighteenth birthday. Her steps hasten as he whinnies, happy to see her. Likely hopeful for a treat, a hope which she indulges in presenting the apple for his consumption.

Her mount has been so loyal, so good natured to her for so long that she mourns the fact she doesn’t get to ride him as often. She tends now towards her red hart, a choice made of both vanity and practicality – a stag is an embellishment to her character that works better in the tales spread by those they save.

She strokes the nose of her noble stallion, resting her forehead against him for a time. He does at least still get his freedom, often ridden by Blackwall when they go out scouting or hunting in their free time. He is far more suited to the larger man, but her longing for this one piece of her previous life never seems to lessen.

The passing thought of her lover tugs at her heart, enough to draw her away from her horse and into the barn next door. Blackwall is talking to one of the stableboys, his back to her as he instructs the young lad on what to do next. It’s not really his place to do so, but the Warden seems so happy when spending his time around the animals that she isn’t about put a stop to it. 

It’s only when the boy sees her approaching and blinks a few times, pulling himself upright into a sweetly stiff attention, that the man even realises she’s there.

Blackwall turns slightly, shooting her a warm smile over his shoulder. He winks, then, making her laugh, before turning back to the boy.

“Alright Calum. You can run along now.”

The lad shoots off without a second glance, heading off into the marketplace at quite a clip. Tessa grins to herself, walking over to Blackwall’s workbench and pulling herself up to sit upon it. 

“Am I that terrifying?” She queries, swinging her legs a little bit once she’s settled.

He chuckles but doesn’t approach her yet, too busy with tidying up after himself and Calum. Several different kinds of tool are lying around, needing to be returned to their rightful places in advance of the stablehands who might come in after them.

“Your reputation precedes you.”

There’s something quite novel about having any kind of reputation, particularly one that earns such respect. “I’ll have to remember that the next time I’m feeling too lazy to fetch myself something.”

Blackwall does turn now, walking slowly over to join her. She can’t deny she loves the way he moves, each step measured, considered. So in control of his body. “If only laziness was the worst of your concerns.”

When he chances a look outside the barn Tessa knows what’s coming, but the warmth of his lips against hers isn’t yet something she can prepare for. She sighs happily, tangling her hands in his unbound hair, holding him to her as she traces her tongue over his lower lip. His hand finds her side as he yields to her, thumb brushing over the underside of her breast. His lips quirk against hers when she moans. Always so pleased with himself.

Distant laughter is enough to makes them break apart, Blackwall smiling down at the flush of her cheeks. “So. What brought you down here? Not that I’m not pleased to see you.”

Tessa ducks her chin. Initially, her intent was little more than to see him; it was only the intervention of Josephine that gave her more to think on. “I think people are starting to figure us out.”

He smiles, lifting her chin with a broad finger. “Wouldn’t surprise me. We’re not exactly subtle.”

“Hey, speak for yourself.” She feigns a little indignation. “Subtlety is my middle name.”

He scoffs. “Says the one who the chambermaid caught coming out of my quarters in a ripped shirt. Very subtle, to be sure.”

A fair point, she supposes. Not one she has to like. “If _you_ hadn’t ripped it I would have got away with it.”

There’s something deliciously dangerous about the look he gives her then, lowering his head so that he can speak directly into her ear. “If you were naked quicker it wouldn’t’ve happened.”

Tessa huffs out a little laugh, feeling the flush return. It’s so novel to have someone want her, badly enough to give little care for the clothes keeping her from him. And for her to have no concern for the destruction in return. But it’s not a habit to get into – the requisition forms alone would be far too awkward to explain. 

“Do you think we should tell people?” She asks, watching as he moves around to lean against the bench beside her.

“Why should we?” His reply is gruff. “None of their business. Though I agree that attempting to hide it any longer is counterproductive.”

Tessa leans so that her head is resting on his shoulder. “So we just… let them figure it out?”

“If they haven’t already.” He says. “Expect a few comments here and there, but I reckon everyone’s got far more important things to worry about.”

He’s right, of course. It’s a rare day when he isn’t. And it isn’t as if they’re suddenly going to be walking around hand-in-hand, displays of affection making everyone sick to the back teeth of them - nothing could be further from their characters. It would be nice, though, to be able to say a proper goodbye if she’s heading off without him. Or retire to her room together each night without having to space their exits from the dining hall.

“Think I might miss sneaking around. Just a bit.” She admits, smiling when she feels the shaking of his laughter.

He turns his head to press his lips to her forehead. “Doesn’t mean we have to stop.”

Tessa lingers barely a moment longer, hopping down from the table and moving to stand in front of him. She grins cheekily, her hands moving to the buttons of her coat. “Is that a promise, Serah?”

He watches for a time as she frees a first button, then a second, and begins to back up towards the stairs to the loft. “Could well be, Inquisitor.”

Her foot hits the bottom step and she starts to rise up them, her stomach now exposed by the loosening of her outfit. “And a Warden always keeps their promises, right?”

The slow smirk that graces his face as he slowly climbs after her is one of her very favourite sights. Whether he’s approaching her in her bedroom, crawling down her body or watching as she does the same to him. It warms her in all the right ways to see him wear such a look. 

She pauses at the top of the stairs and he stops halfway, staring up at her, waiting her next move. With little flourish she undoes the final button and shrugs off her coat. 

“Make haste, Serah. A girl can get chilly out here.”

He’s on her before she can think better of baiting him, hauling her close and backing her up towards the piles of hay that lay waiting for a decidedly different use to the one they both have in mind.

A Warden’s promise, backed up by a Warden’s stamina. By the Maker, she’s a lucky girl.


End file.
